loss
by abodo
Summary: Blue and red, contrast or clash?


She smiled, her eyes crinkling in mirth as she stared up at the sky. Her ruby eyes reflecting an odd violet as it clashed against the azure.

She wondered back on a whim as to what she may have neglected to do and laughed a little. Yes, that's right. She'd forgotten the last stack of paperwork her position as student council president awarded her with. Utsuho would be angry with her.

Everyone else was probably headed back right now. The day must have drained them all tired. It was a little exciting, and everyone's tension was definitely high by the time they'd gotten started. They were so excited that even though they weren't finished yet, they wanted to just go ahead to the next place. So as the eldest of the group, she'd shooed them off to finish up.

It was really funny when she thought about it. Ichika had his misgivings, but one smile from her eased his nerves enough to be free from guilt. She always found it cute about him that he worried about her, despite being his instructor and practically outclassing him in everything. Except maybe knitting, knitting was just a realm she could not tread in, God forbid that boy could probably make a comfy sweater for her if she just ask him. But she couldn't. She knew he would do it for her, but that honest kindness was just something she couldn't take advantage of. Orimura Ichika maybe the man she had come closest to falling in love with even with rivals in the form of five other girls.

Shinonono Houki, she was elegant, beautiful, reserved and earnest. But that was only if she stayed a statue. The girl was downright violent when set off. It made her laugh a bit whenever she remembered parrying those sword strikes she was so proud of in barely nothing but her underwear. Funny thing to remember but that was probably the most impactful moment to her in their short association.

Huang Ling Yin was a little firecracker, one that seemed to have too much gunpowder every other bead if you catch her drift. The little Chinese girl was just always a bundle of energy, trying to impress someone, trying to prove something, or just flat out trying. She was a cute little thing and there was no doubt by the red-eyed girl that she would have loved to keep the younger teen as an adopted sister. Though it wasn't for her lack of attempts to warm up to the girl. LingYin just seemed to have it out for her, always glaring at her or squirming away whenever she glomped the unsuspecting junior. It did bother her that the girl's eyes were always on her chest, but she chalked it up to the fact that despite her own short stature, she was still fairly taller than Rin.

Cecilia Alcott. Now there was a mixed bag if she ever saw one. Graceful lady on one side, klutzy princess on the other. But in either facade she was always arrogant. An irritating trait to be sure, but it was always a treat to see her fall when the English woman set herself up for it. Surely she would have learned given time, but there never seemed to be any change. All the better though because the show was always enjoyable. Underneath all this self-assuredness though was a very real doubt. A doubt shared by this girl who's eyes were wandering in the skies. Expectations, desires, clashes that just seemed to deny one's very existence. The slightest hints of guilty pleasures sating the hunger that had always dwelled deep in one's heart. Though meeting so little, she seemed to connect to the blonde the most.

Charlotte Dunois was as two faced as they came. A gentle smile on one side, and murderous thoughts behind. If Houki was violence and LingYin was murderous, this girl could only be described by brutality. Honestly, they mirrored each other quite well. There was never a moment where a want to just thrash the person she disliked before her never crossed her mind, but the teachings of politics drilled deep since childhood demanded a smile and nod. Deception was a key ability they both had, sweet innocence as Charlotte's mask while intriguing mystery was her own.

Laura, how the small girl could be anything but a doll was beyond her thoughts. When they had first met, the soldier had tried to cleave her in two, maybe even her charge as well given the chance. Dealing with violence was her forte though and Laura was no different than those many she had patted down. A fascination was probably the best way to describe the relationship between the two of them, not unlike that of a mesmerized child and a cat. She had always wondered whether that silver hair was as cold and smooth as the metal its luster rivaled. A want to hug and cuddle the childlike figure never leaving when the two saw face to face. Just like LingYin, these feeling were not reciprocated. Instead, wariness was always on the doll like girl's eyes. The German always had her guard up and it saddened the senior so that such cuteness was marred by seriousness. That was why it had become a habit to tease the child soldier, embarrassment and surprise always breaking through schooled emotions. In hindsight, those pranks were probably why Laura avoided her doubly so. She smiled at the thought.

Each of these girls were wonderful in their own way, and Ichika had need only pick one of them. He probably couldn't, that same kindness she loved would not let him. Too many hearts would break under his heavy choice should the time ever come. But when it came, as it surely would. She hoped and prayed that the lucky girl would be her sister. Polar opposites, the two of them, she mused. While she lived and thrived, shriveling inside, her sister was dull but colored her thoughts in wild joys. A warm welcome and the ease to follow up with a knife to the back contrasting sharply to cold hostility with budding respect. Extrovert, introvert, but again maybe part of that was her fault.

There were far too many things to correct, more words to say. But she felt tired, oh so tired. Her body felt cold and hungrily seeped in whatever warmth the sky could lend. She spread her arms out as if to embrace the ever blue companion.

"Till we meet again."

Her ruby eyes dull as their sparkle whittles away. That glitter passing on to the crimson that spread beneath her. Through her chest a single knife that had cut through her IS' armor.

About the small patch of green painted crimson, all lay down in billows of smoke and destruction. The remains of about twenty other IS strewn about wasted.


End file.
